I discovered the following poem a year ago in my British Modernism class. I was so moved that I bought a book of poetry by the poet. The title popped into my head this afternoon, so I pulled it out again. Re-reading it brings back good memories. I know it might not apply to all situations, but I think Auden is generally right.
Enjoy.
The More Loving One
by W.H. Auden
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
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